(İMostly Autumn 2001)

As the half light of the evening
embers on the hill
the warmth of my home
the warmth of my home

and pictures
and feeling
and sounds of the past

too old to run
too young to die
too sad to smile
tears in your eyes
nowhere to hide
but here alone

Artist Comment: "Frodo knows what he must do, but the enormity doesn't make leaving the peace of the shire easier."